I am so very very very sorry that this chapter has taken so long! I've had an incredibly hectic summer, between band practice, summer jobs, English homework, horse training, family vacations and friends' parties, I've hardly been home to sleep, let alone write. I even considered, for the first time, giving up and dropping the story! But then I decided not to. I hate authors who do that. So, here, after almost a month, is the next chapter. The next one may take a while, too, but I'm trying. When school is back in session, things should settle down again for me to write reliably again. Again, I am so sorry. Thanks to all of you who've remained faithful. I love you guys! I obviously don't own any Phantom characters, so don't sue me, please. That's all. I hope you like it!

Secrets Revealed

The two girls chatted merrily for the first ten minutes, hiding their impatience with small talk.

"Really, Meg, how long have you... had feelings for the Vicomte?" Christine asked when the conversation began to lull. Meg grew wide-eyed and placed a finger on her lips, obviously wanting to kill Christine for speaking aloud, looking fearfully over the amused girl's right shoulder. Suddenly Christine stiffened as she felt a light hand on her arm, and her own eyes grew with shock as a familiar voice chuckled.

"Feelings? For me?" Raoul laughed. "Yes, Meg, how long have you harbored secret dreams of smoldering passion about me?" he teased good-naturdly. Meg paled, then quickly stood and fled out of the room. Christine rose to follow her, but Raoul placed his hand on her arm again. She turned to tell him off, but found real concern glinting from his dazzling blue eyes. She sighed, gave him a gesture that meant "I'll tell you later," and walked over to the other man standing tense and alert in the doorway, absentmindedly wringing his hat in his hands. She dropped her head respectfully. "Monsieur Bordeaux, I presume?" He nodded gently, looking her in the eye and relieving all tension between them. "I'm very sorry about that show of inhospitality. Mademoiselle Giry has not been feeling well recently, and she warned me that she may have to leave at some point during the course of your stay. I do hope you are not offended by the lack of hostess. Madame Giry should be down momentarily."

His voice was surprisingly deep and rich, light-hearted and full of hidden laughter."I am not offended in the least, Mademoiselle..."

"Daae," Christine supplied hastily, surprised at how flustered she had become in his presence. She wondered briefly if, ironically, she were the one becoming ill. He picked up and kissed her hand gently, lips lingering, and Christine felt a blush creep into her cheeks. She shook her head gently and laughed out loud, cursing herself for a fool. If she couldn't control herself when one handsome man paid her attention, how could she convince Erik to trust her again? I remember, there was mist... swirling mist upon a vast glassy lake. There were candles all around, and on the lake there was a boat. And in the boat there was a man... Her first visit to Erik's lair played in her mind as though it had been yesterday, and she shivered softly at his remembered touch, his voice, his presence. How could she think she would ever turn to another man? Her resolve strengthened, the blush faded, and she stood rigidly as she spoke to the men.

"I'm sure you're both hungry. I am famished, and I do hope you'll join me for breakfast. As it is already prepared, I see no reason that it should sit out and grow cold. Madame Giry will not mind." She turned and led them into the dining room, where Raoul's advisor promptly pulled out her chair, gesturing for her to be seated.

'How kind, Monsieur Bordeaux. Thank you," she said as she gathered her skirts and sat in the proffered position.

"You're welcome," she grinned lazily at her. "And please, call me Rafe."

"Oh, that's far to informal, I'm sure, Monsieur. We've only just been introduced!"

"Really, Rafael," Raoul commented sarcastically from the other side of the table, voice tense. Christine glanced at him and almost laughed at the smoldering jealousy she saw in his features. She wondered if she'd ever get the silly puppy to give up on her.

"Well, then, you may call me Rafael, my full name," he said to her gently, never losing the hint of amusement in his amber eyes. She sighed in defeat, which Rafael took as a sign to take his seat next to her. Raoul quickly took up temporary residence on her other side. Christine guessed, correctly, that this would be the most interesting breakfast she'd had in ages, as both men bantered, seemingly friendly and cordial, on either side of her. Madame Giry walked in after a few minutes, followed by the maids with their meal. Neither of the men seemed to notice, but Christine couldn't help but observe the glares that Madame Giry was giving Raoul, so she assumed she had gone to speak with Meg.

"I apologize for my tardiness, gentlemen," she said, as if reading Christine's thoughts. "I had to attend to my daughter. She has taken to bed, and I am afraid she will not be joining us this morning." Everyone murmured vague condolences and acceptances of the apology, but intent was obviously upon the dishes being placed before them. "Please, let me hinder you no longer. Let us enjoy what is left of this morning." The covers were lifted from the plates, and the meal was enjoyed in quiet introspect. When they had all finished, however, the conversation started again at once, and it revolved around Christine's moving into Raoul's estates.

"Christine, I should have your quarters ready for you in less than two days. Will you be ready by then?" Raoul asked hopefully. She shot a sidelong glance at the slightly scowling Madame Giry, then looked back at Raoul's eager face. For the first time, she realized she didn't love him. She had been infatuated with him when they were children, but he had been the only male of her relative age she had ever been introduced to before joining the opera house. Then, when Erik had pushed her away, she had sought to console herself with the only man she knew. Now, she was using him yet again, as a guardian when she had lost everything she had ever cared for except her adopted family. For the first time, she realized that he was no true man, not the protector and lover she had found in Erik; he was exactly what everyone around her saw him as- a foolish fop. She smiled at this thought, at her dear, oblivious- well, what was he to her, exactly? Friend? Not intimate enough. Lover? Absolutely not. Brother? No, still wrong. He was simply... her fop. She glanced at him, then sighed resignedly.

'Well, I would like a few more days than that to spend here, with my family. Yes, my family," she repeated as she saw the confusion in everyone's faces. "Madame Giry has always been a mother to me, and Meg is the closest sister anyone could ever ask for. I can't just use them and leave. I wish to stay here for a full week. Then I promise I will come to you, Raoul." She smiled again at the effect the use of the word "to" instead of "with" in that promise, as he gazed at her with ill-contained desire. She patted his hand gently, smiled demurely at him, then turned to speak with Rafael.

Pleasant conversation continued for almost two hours, until Christine rose suddenly and addressed the small party. "Please excuse me, Messieurs, Madame Giry. I am weary after a restless night and I would like to check upon Meg. I am sure my company will not be missed, and I need to sleep for at least a few more hours."

She performed a small curtsey, then looked at Raoul pointedly for a second, making the same gesture as she had before, then nodding toward the parlor. She walked out and waited for a moment before Raoul appeared in the doorway. She pulled him aside and shut the door behind him, setting him down next to her on the couch.

"What's this about?' Raoul asked suspiciously. "Why did Meg act that way earlier? Did I say something to offend her?" He took Christine's hands in his own, and she gently pulled them away.

"Raoul," she sighed deeply. "Meg asked me not to tell you outright, but... I don't think I have a choice now. She truly does care for you. She's adored you for a long time, apparently. For as long as we were together, I think. Probably longer. I... I really wish you would give her a chance. No-" she interrupted his thought as he opened his mouth to speak, obviously about to protest in the name of their former relationship, "-this has nothing to do with you and me. That is all we are now, you and me. There is no 'we' anymore. Raoul, you will always be one of the most important men in my life, but you have to move on. I will accept your support, as a friend, but I love Erik with all that I am. I am not going to return to you. Do you understand?"

He nodded reluctantly, the slightest hint of tears lacing his eyes. "It's just... I've loved you for so long, Christine. You are the only woman who's ever effected me, and losing you..."

"You're not losing me," she said gently, taking his hands. "You'll never lose me."

He nodded again. "It's just... You are the only one I've ever loved. I have no idea how to move on."

She kissed his cheek. "You'll figure it out," she said, standing up. "Meg is the kindest woman I know, and she loves you. Plus, she may be even prettier than you." He laughed gently, and hung his head in mock shame. She grinned at him. "Give her a chance. Promise?"

"Promise," he whispered. They left the room and headed separate directions, he to rejoin his companion and head homeward and she to the upstairs rooms, seeking to comfort her disparaged friend.